


Local News Writer Enters CEO's Office, Hasn't Been Seen in a Week

by goresloth (kathrikat), kathrikat



Category: Kakos Industries (Podcast), The Meat Blockade (Podcast)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood Kink, Bloodplay, Blow Jobs, Characters Most Likely Going To Be OOC, Humor, M/M, Multi, Multiple chapters, Oral Sex, The Shenanigans of Kip Foghorn, Tongue in Cheekish?, Typical Kakos Industries Evilness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-16
Updated: 2018-07-21
Packaged: 2018-09-08 23:01:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8866837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathrikat/pseuds/goresloth, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathrikat/pseuds/kathrikat
Summary: So, you may be thinking, "What happened to the guy?" Well, lemme tell you....





	1. "What Do You Like to Drink in Your Spare Time?"

**Author's Note:**

> This originally began as a fucked up bloodplay fic with all the characters (I know) Conrad Miszuk voices, but then I decided that being edgy isn't the answer to everything when it comes to writing for these two podcasts. At least not this time.

If Kip Foghorn were to describe the inside of Corin Deeth III’s office, he’d tell the average civilian that maybe black isn’t the best of colors to paint your walls with, and is ultimately terrifying when you walk in for a (hopefully) quick talk. And that also having a fireplace in your office with a bunch of plaques with your own name on them could be quite overkill, but if someone at Kakos Industries were to ask, he’d probably just tell them, ultimately, that it’s average.

Averagely dark. Totally.

The blackened walls reflect the fire’s dancing embers. It reminds Kip of Glow Putt.

Being in Corin Deeth III’s office, was like being in a different dimension entirely. Kip knew that Kakos Industries wasn’t above doing that, so he promptly started tapping the dark walls. A strange type of dark that enclosed him and made him stand out, made him feel bright, but not in a good way.

"Just who're you again?" A voice he mainly heard over the daily announcements shook his head out of what he was doing. Why had he come up here again? He swallows as the CEO's fingers taps against his desk, the same rhythm he was making on the walls.

You know, of all the things he's heard about Corin Deeth III one thing reigned true.

He was damn handsome.

And intimidating.

So, _two_ things. Two things reigned true. He could say "intimidatingly handsome" but he wasn't too sure that would cover how small he felt at this moment. Not afraid, just small. Kip also didn't really appreciate that the CEO didn't know his name, despite just introducing himself a few moments ago. Mr. Foghorn was the head reporter for Kakos Industries news for quite some time now, and it hurt a bit in his tiny heart that Corin Deeth III did not know his name, or rather, knew his name differently. No, he wasn't there a lot of the time, yes he deserved to be in his CEO's office right now. It was a complicated matter that went back pretty far.

It all started with an interview.

 

_A whirring sound emanates from Grace Rule's pocket, she's told Corin that she never pays attention when people are there for the interviews and decides to record them to listen to later._

_C: Where are you from?_

_K: Nighttown, sir._

_C: Around here?_

_[Kip shakes his head and points to his left]_

_K: Far, far west. I left hoping to find my potential here._

_[Corin laughs]_

_C: Do you think you’ve found it then?_

_K: [A pause] How do you think I got here?_

_[Corin gets up from his desk and looks through paperwork]_

_C: Tell me, are you very truthful with your reports?_

_K: [laughter] Who in their right mind is?_

_C: You got the job. You do anything wrong, and by that I mean anything wrong against me, your life will become such a living hell that not even your family will remember the name "Kip Foghorn" Grace will get someone to show you the ropes, blah, blah, blah. See you in never. Grace, get him out of my office._

_[Grace gets up and shoves Kip out of the office, snapping her fingers where two well-known people drag Kip away to show him the ropes.]  
_

_*Transcript is most likely inaccurate and/or may be clipped shorter due to the author (and/or Grace) giving zero fucks about the actual plot of this_

 

Let's just say that becoming a part of the Kakos Industries company was simultaneously the best and worst idea to ever overcome him. Well, technically he wasn't actually hired, due to some mix up where his name was put as "Lip Coghon" in the system and now no one actually knows who he is, but at least his writing is renowned by hundreds upon thousands of people, right?

Kip sighs and says his name. "Kip Foghorn, sir. I work for KI and the Nighttown Gazette."

Corin decides not to look up from his computer screen, instead, typing away at the keyboard. The CEO’s sunglasses reflects the brightness. Letters and numbers zip across them and Kip can only think of one word. (HACKERMAN). One word that reminds him of that GOD AWFUL MOVIE. (HACKERMAN). It doesn’t leave him. Awake or asleep. (HACKERMAN).

Kip wonders if Corin can see every mistake he’s ever made or something because an odd type of smile spreads across Corin’s face when he stops. Kip isn’t too sure how to feel about that.

“You’re not in the system,” Corin says. "The only thing that comes up is 'Lip Coghon'."

The old Nighttown Gazette writer tries to look for the CEO’s eyes, to see if they’re looking at him. He swallows. It feels like his mouth is both too wet and too dry at the same time. His entire body feels like it’s either going to melt into a pool of hot liquid or freeze into an icy oblivion. Or, maybe it would do both. Kip wasn’t sure, but he didn’t like the sound of either.

“That’s right.” He hesitates before saying it and then lets out a nervous cough. “Is that bad, sir?”

If Kip thought that Corin couldn’t become more intimidating, he was wrong. He felt as though there was nothing behind those glasses except more darkness, and not in an awful metaphorical sense, like literal black holes behind them.

Corin leans over his desk, hands supporting him from underneath. He makes sure that Kip can see that he’s not fucking around and then says, “Extremely bad.”

Kip forgets to breathe for a moment when Corin literally steps onto and over his desk. Evil looms in the room like rotted flies. Yes, the bad kind. There is no good kind of rot. That truck driver had no idea what she was talking about.

“Tell me, Lip,” Corin puts more emphasis on his not really his name name, and gets so close to Kip he can smell Kakos Koffee on his breath. Kip tries to move back, but he feels something push him forward, a type of shadow maybe? Head of Kakos Industries doesn’t take notice. If anything Kip thinks he sees Corin smile in anticipation. A deadly silence encloses around Foghorn’s throat, like the air around him is choking him in some sort of sick Star Wars fantasy.

He wants to say “Yes?”, to say something, but the only thought that enters his mind while looking at his peer is:

_His teeth are surprisingly bright in the darkness._

The fireplace continues to cackle, the shadow continues to push, until he’s almost touching the other’s luxurious high-dollar clothing. The CEO learns in next to his ear. Kip isn’t sure how to feel about that.

“What do you like to drink in your spare time?”


	2. “Bertrand”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kip supposes following Corin into a dark corridor that probably leads to another dimension isn't the worst decision he's made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oops, ive realized ive been gone for 50 years, here's the second chapter. working on the third as we speak. ive got a lot on my hand ya know? send me requests PLEASE  
> ps i wrote this all in past tense only to realize i wrote the first chapter in present tense, so I changed as much as I could but im pretty sure i didnt get all of it, sorry if it doesnt make sense, i tried okay, i might just say fuck it and post it all in past tense later. thanks for reading!

     “E-excuse me?” Kip asks, his body is suddenly far away from the CEO, all previous flattery vanished into thin air. His mouth is dry. All in favor for a drink.

     He watches Corin move from his position in front of the fireplace, the ember’s light dancing their way off of his luxury clothing, as he steps in front of the wall behind his desk. Kip could see the CEO’s treasured things gracing it. Certificates, pictures, old newspaper articles, the first rough draft of his very own statue that was currently being worked on. Certainly meaningful things, right? Kip suddenly wonders why he wouldn’t have this stuff put in some locked safe, and then realizes who he was talking to.

     “You’re a lost newswriter far away from home, not deaf, are you, Kip?” There’s a faint clicking noise when he asks the question, using his own name much to Kip’s surprise, and the wall that he was standing in front of began to open. Kip ponders about this being one of Corin’s crazy sex dungeons with like, you know, chains and whips and stuff. He wonders if this was the place where people screamed and were never heard from again.

     He doesn’t take notice much to Corin’s smugness. It’s the kind that says he knows more about Kip than he’s letting on. He only walks to the door when Corin puts his hands in front of him, gesturing to go ahead. Kip could describe as what they began to walk through as a corridor, but it was bigger than that. Like nothingness in all directions, yet they still followed a known path. A path they couldn’t see but it was a known one. It was as though the information was already planted into their heads prior to the meeting. Kip had no memory of this prior knowledge being put into his easily manipulated mind, but he doubted Kakos Industries would tell their test subject they were being tested on. After all, who tells the rats their food is laced with rat poison?

     Probably their highly keen sense of smell, but Kip didn’t think too well about that analogy, nor did the writer. He could see a faint light in the close but distant future. He wasn’t sure how far away they both were. He knew exactly where he was. Both of these statements were true. He blinked, and he stood in what he was assuming to be a bar. He had no idea how he got here. He knew exactly how he got here. Both of these statements were true.

     Kip lets out a puff he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in, and then (almost forgetting he had been asked a question) promptly says, “Well, I do suppose I like a cold, smooth, glass of apple juice.”

     Corin, recognizing the writer's confusion, puts a hand up and opens his mouth to correct him, however, he stops, realizing the effort isn’t worth it. If the man didn’t want to drink (and see the obvious meaning behind his words), the CEO wasn’t going to force him. Corin turns his body to the bar. Kip suddenly feels very embarrassed. Embarrassed he asked for apple juice when there most likely wasn’t any. What a foolish thing to do!

     “Bertrand,” Corin speaks darkly. He liked his bartender enough. He showed up when he asked, and sometimes like to pounce around as his personal plaything. Make him a drink, make him cum. It was a win-win situation on those good days when work was stressful enough. So yeah, maybe Kip was a little bit right when he thought of it as a sex dungeon. Of course, they cleaned up afterward most of the time. Most of the time.

     Kip blinks and there Bertrand is. That ol’, long time friend. Everyone had a quarrel with Bertrand, everyone had a friendship with Bertrand. He was a likable, hated guy, really. Kip feels his heart plunge and skip a beat all at once. Bertrand. Bertrand the bartender. His name tag glimmers in the little light there is, and his hands are busy cleaning a glass. Corin gets a little concerned at how… excited Kip seems to be getting.

 _“What’ll it be, boss?”_ Bertrand asks. He had a toothpick hanging from his mouth that Kip hadn’t noticed before. Corin appeared unfazed by this.

     “Two, tall glasses of..,” Corin hesitates, then finishes with a huffed, “apple juice. On-On the rocks? On the rocks.” He nods his head, making sure that he's confident in his answer. Perhaps Kip was having more of an influence on him than he suspected.

     Kip watches the yellow liquid fill the cracks in between the chunks of ice. Is this, he thought, how it would look if he pissed into a cup of ice?

     Bertrand raises a brow. He spoke only when spoken to, really. Although handsome at first glance, if you looked at him long enough you’d notice how his hands twist and bend and _elongate._ Just enough to make you uncomfortable. And once you looked at him even longer, you’d see the exact same thing with his entire torso. His entire being. Fortunate for most, those looks and that high-class old-fashioned charm would come back every time someone blinks. What about the people that did see him like that you ask? Well, you don’t hear anything about them, do you?

     Kip continues to gawk at his old friend. It was so surreal seeing him out of Nighttown. So pleasant. Kip feels as though he is tipsy, tipsy on the past. He wishes Bertrand and him were on the same page, but he starts to feel his CEO coming after him, either for better or for worse, he didn’t know.  He jerks his head around, as a record player came to life. He notices the golden letters on the side. It read “Corin Deeth I” with "Evil is on the rise, and Evil is everywhere”, underneath it. He assumes it was a gift.

     “It was a gift from my grandfather,” Corin says, gesturing Kip to come to the ballroom dance floor. Kip didn’t remember seeing it earlier, but he supposes it didn’t matter now. It _was_ here and Corin was paying attention to him. Which, in all honesty, he _liked._ He _liked_ it more than he should’ve and he really didn't know if that was good or bad. Maybe both. All he could think about was Bertrand, and how nice Corin looked underneath the speckled lighting. He watches as his peer gets ahead of him, and ask, “Would you care to dance?”

     Kip swallows, obviously nervous and rebounds with, “What’s the catch?” though he takes Corin’s hand before he could get an answer. Stupid! He thought, _stupid, stupid, stupid._ Expecting Corin to throw him around like a ragdoll, he braces himself, surprised when Corin pulls him in.

     “Mm, no catch. A dance. Just this once, though. I don’t want people to think I just do all of these things to be _nice.”_ Corin frowns deeply at the thought. Kip leans into it. Straaaange. What did he come here for again? He glances back at his apple juice back at the bar. Bertrand was watching. He looks rather dull, his hands busying away at cleaning a single glass. He notices it was the same one from earlier and  tries to get into the whole “let's be a little _more_ than acquainted" thing he assumes Corin is trying to pull off, but looking straight into a set of pitch black sunglasses isn’t exactly the most arousing material. All he could see was his own reflection, and he wasn’t too happy about it. He kept looking away.

     “Is something the matter?” Corin asks. Suddenly his voice sounded like silk, and even though there were still terrifying shadows floating around his CEO, he didn’t mind them as much. Damn, Bertrand _really_ wanted that glass clean.

     “No, nothing.” Kip looks away once again from his own exhausted reflection.

     “It’s my glasses isn’t it?” Corin reaches for them. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt.”

     Kip's heart rate quickens. He was not ready to see his CEO’s eyes. That was too Evil, right? He'd turn into dust, right? Or maybe that was too intimate, yeah? Though, most everyone at this Godless company had fucked the man… The glasses were right about to come off. He waits in anticipation.

     And then the music changes.


	3. So Here's What Happened (Ending One - Disappointment)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyone who's been waiting for this for this long: im so sorry

Jimi Hendrix’s “All Along the Watchtower” begins to fill the room. Kip raises his brow.  
  
“My grandfather had odd taste,” Corin explains. “And he was also high a lot.”  
  
     Kip nods in agreement. He isn’t sure what to say. Hasn’t been for a while. Maybe he’d tell Corin why he actually came up here, or maybe he’d stay here with him for the rest of the night. And oh, he’d love to talk to Bertrand again. That hateable lovable bastard. Kip supposes it'd be nice to catch up, even though he could just talk to him at any bar. No, any not bar, he thinks, any _Nighttown_ bar. He feels a pang of nostalgia for the town that feels so far away. All that that happened with Max and author extraordinaire Karl Berenger, well, lets just say he kinda wants it back again. He wants it back very much. So, _so_ , much.

     The dance is over just as soon as it starts. Kip feels compelled to look into Corin's eyes and finds himself stuck there. There's black shadows clouding his vision. The Evilness is intoxicating. In a heavy haze, the two of them sit at the bar. They sip at their apple juice and Kip feels something collapse when Corin demands that Bertrand joins them. Whether or not Bertrand's drink was actual apple juice or some other substance was hard to say.

  
     Bertrand stays wary of both of them. His emotions are unreadable.

     Kip doesn't care. He wonders how the friend and enemy gets paid here at Kakos Industries. Money? Favors? _Sex_? Kip's mind suddenly envisions Bertrand bent over the counter, used as one of Corin's personal toys. He flusters and stares intensely at his apple juice. 

     Corin and Bertrand both stare at the rosy color that's now formed on Kip's cheeks. Corin's eyes say "Odd", while Bertrand's just look annoyed. As though the bartender's had to deal with this kind of behavior before. Corin says nothing, but wonders about what's unfolding before him. He supposes he brought the news writer down here to mess with him, but he also feels so intrigued by him. Someone who snuck past Kakos Industries top line security and _lived_? This guy could not even be a reporter. He could be an assassin, or a spy, or a _really_ dedicated goose. Huh.

     Bertrand has to admit, seeing the old friend is a surprise. He didn't know Kip had started to work for Kakos Indutries. The slimy smuck had been right under his nose the entire time. Bertrand thought Kip had turned into a more fine tuned version of himself. Hopefully KI had taught the fool how to handle sticky situations. He thought back to Kip and Smoothy Juicy and failed to hide the smile. Kip and Corin see nothing.

   "I say we-" Corin begins. But then there is a flash. It appears that Helena has accidentally released a toxin in the room. Bertrand disappears to safety. Kip starts choking and spewing. Corin lives because he's Corin. You could say his face reads as rage, like a cold fury or wrath. I'd say it reads one thing over all:

 

Disappointment.


	4. So Here's What Happened (Ending Two - Sex Music)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they fuck okay? that's it

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's short bc im tired of having a bunch of unfinished stories

 Jimi Hendrix’s “All Along the Watchtower” begins to play. Kip raises a brow.  
  
“My grandfather had odd taste,” Corin explains. “And he was also high a lot.”  
  
Kip shifts noticably uncomfortable. Corin continues.  
  
“He also liked the art of arousal. He always talked about how there were certain songs that could set the mood.” Kip looks nervous. He can hear a sickly smile in Corin's voice as he finishes.  
  
“This is one of those works.”  
  
Kip doesn’t have time to react to how fast Corin picks him up at the waist and twirls him around so his back hits the wall. He's suddenly electrified when Corin begins working his mouth at the lips, soft but impatient. There's flutters scratching their way out of the reporter's stomach when Corin snakes one of his hands up his shirt.

Bertrand watches from the bar distractedly. The song changes again and passionately, they swing from the wall to the bar countertop. Bertrand wrings his hands together. Just a touch.

  
Kip gasps a little when they end up knocking over their glasses of apple juice. Corin pays no mind though, making eye contact with the mysterious barkeep.  
  
“Hey Bertrand, mind doing a little _clean up_?” Corin commands using his hands to unzip Kips business slacks. He involuntarily gasps when Corin’s hand grabs his half-hard dick. His thumb wipes around a bead of pre on his tip.  
  
Reluctantly, Bertrand reaches for the rag that’s laying across his left shoulder and begins wiping down the counter space next to them. He watches Corin lean downward, his mouth pursed and pretty, and feels watching his superior in that position hit him hard. He’d love to just get behind Corin and grab a fistful of that hair..  
  
“No,” says Corin, his mouth salivating a strand of pre and his own wet goodness as he comes up from Kips cock, “I said _clean up_ , not “clean up.”” Corin nods his head toward Kip. The writer’s in all kinds shambles, face flush and holding the side of Corin’s face. It looks too soft for someone like Corin, but seeing his peer so vulnerable he couldn’t help but obey.  
  
“Yes, sir,” Bertrand says, he pulls Kip’s arms behind his back. Kip submits and lets the sensation of Corin’s pursed lips on him take over any other feeling. Fuck recognition, receiving a blow job from Corin Deeth III was the best thing he'd get. He can’t help but let out soft moaned thank-yous.  
  
Being touched by Bertrand was a different story. His touch felt more secure, more knowing. He’d always liked and hated Bertrand all the same and he couldn’t wait for what the well-known barkeep was going to do to him.  
  
Bertrand pulls Kip back so that he's flat against the counter, and his head hangs off the edge. Kip's breathing gets more excited as he watches Bertrand pulls himself out from his jeans. 

"Mn," Kip whimpers when Bertrand slides himself into his mouth like he owns it. It's not long until Corin is sitting in Kip's lap, dripping a generous amount of lube onto Kip's dick. The contact makes Kip shiver and gag a little who's occupied with his noise maker. Bertrand holds his head still, gladly accepting the spit that comes up onto him.

"Fuck," Corin mutters, slowly lowering himself onto Kip and squeezing. Kip is making most undignified sounds.

"You like that?" Bertrand lightly smacks Kip's face and places his hands around his throat, squeezing just the right amount near the windpipe with his thumbs. Kip's face is turning a lovely red.

Impatiently, Corin grabs Bertrand and pulls him in for a kiss. It's rough and hot and messy. Bertrand wishes it could last forever. And Kips never been used like this, but he sure could get used to it.

It's not long after that the two of them finish on his bare chest and face. Kip can't stop saying thank-you.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, so much," Kip's panting and in an Evil haze. He can see black shadows around Corin, but pays them no mind. He feels too good to care.

"Should we finish him?" Bertrand asks.

Corin looks at Kip and laughs through his nose. "No, maybe tomorrow."

Kip's will to get up tomorrow morning skyrockets.


	5. So Here's What Happened (Ending Three - Bloodplay)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bloodplay, bondage, fucked up shit. What else do you want?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> probably rushed and bad but idgaf at this point. I've been trying to write this shit since december 2017 sue me if it's bad

     Jimi Hendrix’s “All Along the Watchtower” begins to fill the room. Kip raises his brow.

  
          “My grandfather had odd taste,” Corin explains. “And he was also high a lot.”

  
     Kip nods in agreement. The dance is nothing too exciting. The music does nothing. When the record is done, they sit down at the table.

  
    Corin swallows. He's suddenly very nervous around the two of them. He knows what he has to do.

Bertrand stares at the two of them. 

          "Do you want to know what I think about you sneaking into this company under all of our noses, Kip?" Corin asks. 

     Kip snaps out of looking at his drink. He doesn't like the tone of his peers voice. It's cold and flat and sends chills down his spine. It makes him wonder how he's about to be treated for the next few moments. The sudden weight of Corin's hand on his thigh draws in all his focus. Corin reaches a little further in, so, so close to touching Kip and then stops. Kip gets antsy.

          "W-what do you think, sir?" Kip asks. Bertrand watches whats going on in anticipation. Corin hums, and smiles wide.

          "I think you should be  _punished,"_ Corin growls, "You'd like that wouldn't you?" He finishes as his hand slips all the way. Kip nods so fast and without hesitation he thinks he gets whiplash for a second. And Corin? God, Corin can't help himself. Pleasuring someone so  _inferior,_ someone who should've been dead, it made the arousal shoot through his entire body.

He steps behind Kip's chair, puts one hand over his mouth and nose, and palms the writer over his clothes.

          "Yes, you like being punished, hm? In fact, this is what you wanted the entire time, isn't it? Not to be recognized properly by everyone in the company, just to be recognized by  _me,"_ Corin is breathless in Kip's ear. Kip lets out muffled moans against Corin's hand. And god, how he squirms, and squirms, and squirms, desperate to breathe. Corin twists around the tip and then let's Kip get what he wants. Such pretty gasps.

          "Thank you, sir," Kip manages to say. Corin removes his tie, and wraps it four times around his wrists before pulling them as tight as he can, and knotting them. 

          "If you can't keep your legs apart, I'll have to do the same to them, do you understand?"

          "Yes, sir."

          "Good," Corin pulls down Kips slacks and turns to Bertrand.

          "Mind giving me the switchblade?" 

Bertrand obediently hands over the knife, which is promptly used to pop open Kip's shirt. A copious amount of lube is poured onto Kip, which Corin begins to work in. And every time Kip is close to finishing, Corin puts a light slash in his chest. It hurts  _so_ fucking good almost sending him right over the edge. His two peers are watching him tremble and shake, physically begging them to let him finish. Corin laughs and pulls the toy up by his ties. Roughly shoving the reporter to the kitchen sink. Bertrand, now simply an assistant in this round of fun, turns the water on hot, touching himself when Corin puts Kips face as close as he can to it.

Kip moans when he feels the heat coming off of it. It'd burn so good if Corin decided he should be hurt. Behind him, he can feel Corin's cock rubbing against his entrance, teasing, but not anywhere close to getting him off. One of Bertrands stray hands keeps touching his chest, occasionally pinching the nipples, and then digging into his fresh cuts and vice versa.

          "Please, please," Kip whimpers against the counter, barely able to stand. "Sir, punish me," Kip spats his request through clenched teeth, there's a stray finger in one of his cuts, "Punish me I've been so, so _bad_." He's hurting so much, but he wants _Corin_.

      With that, Corin forcefully grabs hold of Kip's hair and shoves his head under the water that's accumulated in the sink, loving the way his entire body convulses without air. So desperate. So wanting. Corin was in control of it all. Kip could only breathe when Corin allowed it. Kip could only come when Corin allowed it. That was his punishment. That's what happens when you cheat Kakos Industries.

In and out of the hot water Kip was pulled- each time gasping and yelling louder than the last. Corin holds Kips head in the water harder, physically restraining his toy from getting even a hair out from his crazy sex trap.

"Are you gonna pass out?! Huh?" Corin growls and hits Kip's ass as hard as he can. With all the squirming, he can feel himself about to finish. Kip is growing ever desperate for oxygen.

"Ah- _Fuck_!" Corin gasps out, finishing. He pulls the reporter out of the hot water and violently throws his naked body onto the tiled kitchen floor.

Kip can barely move but there's only one thing on his mind: He wants more.

"Get up," Corin orders, "Get on your knees."

Unexpectedly, Kip is pulled up by his hair and guided over to Bertrand, who is awfully patient.

"He's all yours." Corin says sickly.

"Thanks boss," Bertrand takes over, and does what he needs to. Kip's mouth is exceptionally warm after being in the water and it doesn't take him long to finish, keeping Kip locked onto him. Kip is gagging and trying to pull away, but Bertrand keeps him there regardless. Pulling out, spittle and cum drips down Kip's face who collapses back on the floor breathless, bloody, and completely used. Whimpers of pain and pleasure come from him.

"I think- I think I should get into trouble more often," Kip playfully offers.

     Corin grins widely,

"I couldn't agree more."


End file.
